Ten Months working title
by Marauder Meanderings
Summary: Each of the ten months leading up to the battle in the Department of Mysteries at No. 12 Grimmauld Place, starting in September and ending in June. Follows the highs and lows of Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, separately and together.
1. September

12 Grimmauld Place was quiet as a tomb. _I never noticed how much life they brought to the house_, Remus thought as he walked in the door, and put his cloak quietly in the closet. Not wanting to call out to see who was at the house in fear of causing the portrait in the hallway of Sirius' Mother to become irate and start her diatribe of insults, as she was prone to do when disturbed, he went into the kitchen to find it empty. _Curious, I would think that at least Molly would be in there I didn't think they were planning on going back to the Burrow until tomorrow_, he thought and walked back out and took in a deep breath trying to smell who might be in the house; for some reason he couldn't smell anything except for the strong smell of antiseptic and suddenly he became tense as he wondered if Sirius had gotten it into his mind to go out knowing he isn't allowed. _This could be bad_, Remus thought as he started to ascend up the stairs to Sirius and Buckbeak's room to see if perhaps they were just locked up again. He knocked on the door quickly three times then waited for a response on the other side of the door.

Buckbeak scraped his talons on the bare floorboards, and shifted his wings so that from within the sound of an upset chest of drawers responded to Remus' terse knock.

"What are you doing?" Sirius' barked in a mordant undertone, framed in the threshold to the parlor across from the room where the hippogriff was making a racket that could threaten this rare and therefore precious moment of quietude in the decrepit, dusty relic of a mansion. His gaunt features were arranged into an expression of moderate disapproval, his arms crossed in front of him as he leaned against the gothic moulding around the door. "Why don't you knock on it again and we can have my mother give us a private screeching performance."

Remus turned around quickly and his surprised eyes met a look of disapproval from Sirius as he stood looking at him. For a moment Remus almost went for the bait, but instead he let the remark slide off him while he gave the other man a small smile and said, "Ah, there you are. I thought you disappeared with everyone else," he walked toward his old friend across the hall, Remus continued as a warm smile came to his lips, "Where is everyone, anyway? The quiet took me by surprise." Remus took in the features of his old friend, the difference of his face, which had lost all the softness of youth while in Azkaban. He noticed the way it had turned into harsher angles that didn't at all take away from his looks, but in ways enhanced them. The same dark hair strewn with curls that Sirius had always had was still very much as dark as night, only now it was worn longer and a bit unkempt; a sign that Remus knew well as Sirius being unhappy. What made Remus' heart hurt though was how pitifully thin Sirius was, his clothes just hung on him, and Remus felt the need to try and change that. "Want to join me for a spot of tea?"

"Actually I was about to go up to the roof," Sirius replied brusquely, with a glint in his fathomless grey eyes that upon close inspection could be interpreted as carefully suppressed disdain. But Sirius was too aloof for anyone to maintain continuous eye contact with him for too long, because there was something sharply bitter there as well that made even the staunchest of personalities avert their gaze and focus on something like the warp in the floorboards or the ornate filigree on an ancient, tarnished picture frame. There was a deep freeze in those eyes, as if the dementors had already had their long lusted-after kiss.

He nonchalantly brushed past Remus, but was careful not to touch him, and strode down the hallway, at the end of which a set of narrow stairs ascended to a once forgotten passage that opened up to the roof. Sirius paused, his hand on the carved banister, and looked back down the hallway at his friend who still stood by the parlor, looking slightly puzzled and maybe a little put off. He simply watched Remus for half a moment, taking in the healthy, rugged, universally attractive features of his last living best friend bathed in watery white sunlight coming in from the soot encrusted window next to the staircase. _The years have been kind to you, Remus,_ he thought, _if only we could've shared them, but I suppose it's no use to pine over what I never had – or never will._ Regretful of the arctic chill he had spoken with, Sirius finally said after a shallow sigh, "You could bring some tea up there. If you wanted, that is."

Remus stood there for a moment in quiet shock, though he had seen Sirius many times use this method on others it had rarely been applied to him. _Except when…_, Remus' mind started to move back in time, but he wouldn't allow it. This wasn't the time to think about _that_ as he'd spent too much time thinking about it for the last twelve years, that was then and they were faced with the right now, things were different. He was about to walk away when he heard something that made him pause, a sigh so soft others wouldn't notice it, but he had. Remus knew what that sigh meant even after all these years, and when he heard Sirius tell him that he could join him with tea Remus couldn't help but think that no matter how long they had been apart some things were still the same. Looking up, Remus made sure not to smile too broadly at the fact that Sirius had relented; a show of any sign of victory would cause the invitation to be revoked instantly. "I'll prepare it and bring it up then." He said keeping his voice even and heading into the kitchen.

After a bit, Remus showed up in the courtyard on the roof with a tray. On it was a tea kettle, two cups with saucers and various biscuits and small sandwiches that he took the time to prepare wanting Sirius to eat something so that he wasn't so gaunt. He sat the tray down on the table that was between two chairs, one of which was occupied by Sirius already, without a word and prepared the tea for each of them. Once he handed Sirius his tea cup and saucer making sure to put a sandwich on it, he turned and sat down in the opposite chair and picked up his own cup drinking quietly for a moment. There was a silence while both men looked out over the horizon as the sun started to set, and finally Remus said without taking his eyes off the view, "You never told me where everyone went."

Sirius ignored his tea in favor of tearing a desiccated autumn leaf to bits while staring across the London rooftops around them, shrouded in the blossoming violet dusk. Remus' sudden question jarred him out of the blank reverie he'd slipped into. "You didn't ask. They've all gone home, or back to school, or to other, more important places and people," he said bluntly as he watched the flakes of the dead leaf resting in the palm of his hand light on a gentle wind whistling around the rooftop, and swirl off on the gust. It smelled like winter already, but he did not shiver.

A discordant metallic grate split the stillness as Sirius turned his chair to face the rickety, weather-beaten round table and took his first sip of tea. Remus held his cup and saucer in his lap, facing outward toward the western horizon, giving Sirius the perfect angle to admire his friend's profile from. _I wish he would look at me,_ Sirius said inwardly, _why don't you look at me, Remus?_ He didn't dare voice the query. It would make things even more strained than they already were… hell, if that was even possible.

Sniffing the sandwich deposited on his saucer, Sirius decided it might be a good idea to have something to eat today, though he failed see the logic in nourishing himself when he didn't particularly see any reason to try keeping himself alive; the house of his youth and early adolescence was killing him slowly and steadily anyhow. He figured, with morbid conviction, that in a few months' time he'd go into the old library for a nap some afternoon and not wake up, or Kreacher would lace one of his cigarettes with some kind of horrid poison one of these days. It was only a matter of waiting, now, until he skidded into the inexorable suck of death.

"So why are you still here?" Sirius asked after taking a long look at the line of Remus' jaw. "Can't imagine it's the ambience." He plucked up the cold sandwich and made quick work of it in three bites, so that it was gone before Remus had the opportunity to reply.

For a moment, Remus tensed when Sirius told him that everyone had left, he wasn't sure why but he was very much afraid at the prospect of having it just be the two of them. _How ridiculous_, he thought to himself for a moment as he pushed the tendrils of fear that were trying to crawl along his brain away, _this is your best mate, there should be no need to fear being alone with him this is Sirius._ Yet, he was and while he took in the information that everyone had left the house, he kept his eyes out on the horizon so they wouldn't betray his fear.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw that Sirius picked up the sandwich and had started to eat; it caused Remus to feel a moment of relief until he heard Sirius speak, and the fear that had been threatening to overtake him grabbed him fully in hand and shook him like a rag doll. Taking a moment to collect himself, he thought carefully before he finally answered, "Where else would I be? Sure, this isn't the most welcoming of places, but it has friends here…it has you," when he spoke the last he turned finally and looked Sirius in the eye willing him to talk about anything, except what they had been so careful to avoid as that subject could stay buried for a while longer. Though, Remus knew the only way to stop the uncomfortable feeling that Sirius and him had been shooting off to each other since the newness of having him back had worn off, was to talk about that long ago time. _Please don't make this more difficult_, his thoughts pleaded as he looked into his best mate's eyes, looking for something other than the accusatory look he felt he had been receiving from things unsaid.

Sirius snorted derisively, "Of course. Where else would _I_ be? Certainly not frolicking about in the tropics, let alone for a stroll in the park." He took another drink of tea then pushed it away, propping his arms up on the tabletop and maintaining eye contact with Remus. Somewhat taken aback that Remus' gaze did not falter, he felt the self-imposed barrier of isolation around his heart give way a little, and actually flashed a smile that managed to reach his eyes and diffuse the wintry frost in them. For a moment, things felt right again.

From his back trouser pocket, Sirius produced a dented tin cigarette case. Placing one in between his lips, he pointed a finger at the end and sucked in a deep first pull. "You can have one if you want," he said neutrally, pushing the opened case across the table, eyeing Remus almost as if to dare him to accept the offering.

A few moments' tense silence ensued, occupied only by the urban noises surrounding and the quiet tapping of ashes onto the slate shingles. "How long do you expect to stay?" Sirius asked all of a sudden, for lack of anything else to say in order to cultivate amiable conversation. He wanted more than anything to kill the seemingly impregnable trepidation that stunted their friendship, and left it in a state of awkward stasis. He knew exactly why things were the way they were, and wished to speak on it, but he perceived the distinct feeling that Remus would rather have it remain interred in their separate memories.

The cigarette case lay open between them for a second, and Remus looked at it for a moment realizing it was the same one from their days at Hogwarts. Grinning he took a fag from it, thinking that it's been at least twelve years since his last cigarette, _only Sirius could get me to smoke and feel comfortable_, he thought as he pulled out the end of his wand and used it to light the cigarette in his mouth. Inhaling the smoke for a moment before letting it out he leaned back in his chair and thought about the past for a moment, the late night walks, the sneaking out of the Gryffindor Common Room, the laughter of his three friends; one that was taken from them forever, one that betrayed them, and the other that sat next to him a shadow of what he was, it was a sobering thought that took some of the pleasure of the smoke away from him. Almost as if on cue, Sirius spoke, and Remus turned again to look at him giving him a small shrug. "I thought I would stay as long as I am welcome. It's not as if I am currently working, and at the moment Albus doesn't have anything for me to do with the Order," he said and realized that it was rude to just invite himself to stay and he flushed for a moment, "That is of course, if that is fine with you."

"That's all fine and dandy," Sirius said with the sort of good-natured sarcasm that was his signature, "and I'll apologize in advance for being a poor host." He raised the cigarette perched between his fingers to his mouth again and took a long drag. Weird silence followed the comment; Sirius silently chastised himself for being such a royal git, and for only exacerbating the uncomfortable situation he found himself in when it came to Remus. For the time being, he settled to just watch Remus as he smoked, following the manner in which his lips closed around the filter, how his cheeks went concave when he inhaled, and savored the glimpse of his tongue when he exhaled a bluish plume of smoke. It was mesmerizing. Sirius' own cigarette burned down to a stack of ashes, right down to the filter. "Ouch," he muttered once he registered the tiny but fierce burn on his fingers, and tossed the filter over the side of the roof. Wincing, he shook his hand to rid himself of the sting the burn left.

A soft snort emanated from Remus as he watched Sirius shake out his hand and he asked with high amusement, "You all right there, Mate? I thought you were supposed to pitch it before it gets to the filter, or perhaps this is the new vogue since it's been awhile since I last had one of these." His grin was lopsided as he knew the joke was weak, but it was better than slipping back into that heavy silence that seemed attracted to the two of them. So not to slip back into it he quickly added, "Since it's just the two of us, what do you think we should get ourselves up into?" Remus paused as soon as the words came out. It had sounded innocent in his mind, but now that it was said it had a very nefarious double meaning attached that he did not intend at all, and he wanted nothing more than to take it back as he felt his face start to warm with what could only be an obvious flush at the way it could be taken.

"Sharp wit you've got," Sirius said before taking the burned fingers into his mouth to soothe away the momentary pain. Remus went on speaking, and the moment he finished Sirius' eyes darted over to his friend's face, who was plainly blushing out of embarrassment. Sirius took his fingers out of his mouth with a wet smack and kept his gaze steady on Remus, and brought his teacup to his lips for another drink. With his eyebrows raised, he said with a strange, pointed look, "I don't know, _mate_, I'm up for whatever you are."

Sirius' mind was now filled with all sorts of torrid ideas, the same sort he entertained in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep and he was wide awake, hard, and sweating underneath his blankets. His cold, hollow eyes blackened as his brain continued to spin these imagined but vivid scenes of Remus and himself writhing together in the dark, sighing and whispering litanies of pleasure. Instantly he became aware of Remus' scent and the distinct spike of discomfort he exuded – and that gave Sirius a sense of power over the other man. "So. What do you suggest?" Sirius questioned in a lowered voice.

Remus sat frozen for a moment as Sirius' voice came at him in low tones. To cover his disconcertion he took rather clumsy drink of his tea spilling some on his lap, and then finished his cigarette still unsure how to answer. He finally said slowly, "We could have dinner I suppose; or perhaps we can entertain ourselves with a game of wizard's chess?" Disappointed because he knew that it sounded hollow and weak, but unsure what he could do to change the situation so that it was more palatable he let the question hang there to be answered.

Inwardly he was cursing at what this could bring up, his own mind started to reel as he saw images of the two of them from long ago come into his mind. _I'm not sure I'm ready for this_; he thought and made to grab another cigarette while he avoided Sirius' eyes. He then chastised himself and wondered when he ever would be. Reluctantly, Remus looked over at Sirius and saw as the other man was intently staring at him, and he knew that Sirius had derived pleasure from watching him squirm, the thought made a small burst of anger shoot through him, causing him to snap back, "Or you could think of something yourself as I was unaware I was the social director." He hoped that he looked defiant while he lit the cigarette with his wand again, but was sure that instead he just looked nervous.

Smirking softly to himself that he successfully disrupted Remus' typically calm and collected composure, Sirius summoned his cigarettes back and lit another as well. "Sorry if I struck a nerve, Moon'," he jauntily chuckled, leaning back and stretching his arms behind himself. "I just don't want you to be bored."

And just like that he switched from purposefully needling Remus with the threat of the monster closeted between them back to his normal self, all acidic sarcasm and emotionless pacifism.

Twilight was growing darker by the minute, and so too did the air become riddled with an early autumn chill. Sirius pushed up from his chair and slowly meandered over past Remus, looking over the roof's edge at the somber, neatly-trimmed flowerbeds and lawns in front of the sleepy houses lining the street. Behind him, Sirius could feel Remus seething with something bordering on contempt, throbbing to be voiced but valiantly kept penned in. Sirius whirled around, one arm crossed over his abdomen and the other lax at his side with his cigarette in his hand. He glanced at Remus with a smile that was intended to be conciliatory, and then redirected his eyes skyward to piece together the first visible constellations dotting the night sky. He chanced another quick look at Remus, and secretly hoped that he too would stand up and look at the stars with him.

Remus' eyes darkly watched Sirius as he walked over to the roof's edge and looked up at the sky. He thought of just standing up and walking away for a moment so that he wouldn't have to look at Sirius' accusatory eyes that demanded silently for answers Remus never had for him. He had never known what to say about the incident that James had rationalized as, 'boys being boys', and yet James' explanation never quite held true for Remus, it never exactly felt that way to him. He just wasn't sure what it was though, and back then it had seemed right to just not have to analyze it or think about it. So, he just let himself go on with his life as if that one moment in time where it was different between them had never happened and didn't change them; and yet…it had, they were different now, it was unspoken, but it was there then tension between them so thick it was almost tangible.

Instead of leaving, he remained in the rusted patio chair smoking his cigarette quietly and looking at almost anything but Sirius. _It shouldn't be like this_; he thought and felt an overwhelming sorrow causing him to drag his eyes over at Sirius who was looking at him for once with no malice, his grey eyes clear and giving a hint of goodwill before they looked skywards. The sky had darkened considerably and the stars were bright considering they we were in a large city. Deciding that there was no reason to hold a grudge, Remus stood and moved toward where Sirius was standing. "It's amazing that the sky has always been clear here. Do you remember the only time you brought me home with you during the winter hols? I was amazed at the fact that almost anywhere else in London you had troubles seeing the stars, except at 12 Grimmauld Place. I thought that perhaps it was spelled somehow for the sky to be darker…clearer than the rest of the city," he said to Sirius as both gazed out at the heavens and then added, "It was one of the only fond memories I had of this place, that holiday was dreadful."

"Yes, I do remember that," Sirius replied, dropping his unfinished cigarette to the ground to be stamped out with the toe of his shoe. With Remus edging closer he felt both excitement and apprehension dawn on him, and so he shoved both his hands into his pockets to hide the way they quivered. "That was my last Christmas here," Sirius continued, "or so I thought."

It was true that the old Black house was an epicenter of very old and powerful magic, which as Remus had guessed was the explanation to why light pollution did not exist when peering at the heavens from this particular rooftop.

Leaning back against the iron railing lining the perimeter of the walkway that wrapped around the roof, Sirius fell into contemplative silence, no longer connecting the points of light smiling down from the sky, but staring blankly at the damp ground, scattered with fall leaves. Just being up here with his friend, the only person left in the world whom he trusted and felt deeply bonded to, made him regret the way he'd been acting since the both of them were living there. Here Remus was, the person who knew Sirius best and who understood his moods and ways, and he had shut him out, along with everybody else. It wasn't right, and his heart ached with the realization.

"I'm sorry, Remus," Sirius sighed, eyes forward, his hands out of his pockets and running through his disheveled curls, tugging at the roots.

Remus looked up at the stars lost in his own thoughts until Sirius' voice brought his attention back down to Earth taking Remus by surprise; Sirius rarely apologized for anything. Looking over at his friend, he held a hand out almost as if gesturing a truce. "No, worries, Sirius. I'm sure that this has been difficult for you, having to adjust after…," his voice faltered as he realized he was about to say 'Azkaban,' which though they had spoken of in passing was not a subject that either of them liked to bring up, "everything that's happened." He said finally then added, "Plus, it's not as if you've really had time to figure out what you are going to do, between having people constantly here, you worrying about Harry, and the frustration of not being able to find Wormtail; it's bound to cause frustration. I understand." Remus looked at his friend's gaunt features and smiled warmly placing a hand on Sirius' shoulder just happy to be there with him for the moment after they spent so long apart. "I've missed you Pads." There was a moment of silence and Remus gently squeezed Sirius' shoulder to bring home what he had said.

For each of Remus' fingers tightening on his shoulder, a bolt of warmth shot through Sirius, and they all settled somewhere in the region of his bellybutton. "I missed you, too," he whispered as he nodded, voice thickened by emotion and regret. As if it was reflex, Sirius smoothly turned in his place and drew the arms he had raised from having his hands in his hair to down around Remus' torso, pulling himself against the other so that they were chest to chest, and hip to hip. Sirius could feel the toe of his old Converse against the inner arch of Remus' tatty brown boot.

His face was pressed into Remus' shoulder; he breathed deep then heaved a sigh crossed with a whimper. "So much," he said, added as an afterthought to his admission of having dearly missed his oldest and best friend. Remus still smelled the same, of chocolate, libraries, and something vaguely wild. He was warm, too, as Sirius hadn't realized how cold his flesh had become from living in seclusion for so long, and the comforting heat seemed to draw him closer as he hugged Remus tighter, his hands clasped at the small of the other man's back. Sirius turned his head and exhaled against Remus' neck, ear, and cheek, and murmured, "Thank you for staying behind."

Sirius' voice was filled with heavy emotion that caused Remus to look over at him concerned, yet hopeful. Sirius had been withdrawn and angry since he had been stuck at Grimmauld, and Remus couldn't blame him; then with the added tension between the two of them Sirius had become increasingly closed up from Remus. Maybe this could be the moment they could let all that go and just be together, so that their newly found time together was one of making good memories and not struggling over something that happened long ago.

When Sirius moved his hand onto him and pulled him closer, there was a moment where Remus was unsure as to what was going to happen next. His body tensed slightly as he felt Sirius' hands move down his torso, and pull him even closer. The feeling of it was scary, it was foreign, it was _wanted_, and for the moment Remus was too petrified to do anything in fear of how it would be taken. As Sirius pressed his face into Remus' shoulder thanking him for staying behind, Remus was surrounded by Sirius' scent. He smelled of loneliness, he smelled of isolation, and he even smelled himself on him, yet still Remus could identify the underlying scents that had always comforted him in the past; the smell of fresh cut grass, of outside wood fires, and faintly of dog. The old smells are what caused Remus' fear to break as he realized just who this was holding him, no matter how much time had passed, no matter what had happened between them that was unspoken of, and he put his arms around his friend embracing him tightly. "We have spent far too long apart, I was not about to leave you now."

For a moment, the panic that Remus would reject him smothered Sirius; once his words were spoken the world seemed to pause and hang in a balance with Remus holding the power to either topple everything or nudge the gears back into natural motion. Sirius was afraid that he'd gone too far; he hadn't fully realized just how close and intimate the positioning of their bodies was. Against him, each nerve ending alert, he could feel every inch of muscle and flesh in Remus' body twitch with nervousness. Staring at Remus' neck, breath held, Sirius watched Remus' adam's apple bob as he swallowed and then spoke the words he needed to hear and hugged him tightly with the embrace he needed to have reciprocated.

Sirius let go and ran a hand through his hair, and smiled somewhat sheepishly at his friend. He felt hot all over, and could feel his cheeks burning. Scratching the back of his neck, he cleared his throat and nonchalantly tossed out, "So, now that we have run of this old bustbin, what do you say to a drink of something a little stronger?"

The embrace didn't seem to last long enough to Remus, and when Sirius stepped away he had to fight himself a moment not to pull Sirius to him again. Remus hadn't realized how much he had missed the close embrace from his friend, it was warmth, acceptance, and even love all wrapped into one; and it was something he hadn't felt in years. He was too involved with what he was feeling to notice any awkwardness Sirius might have been having as Remus ran a hand through his hair, it wasn't until Sirius spoke that he was brought back from his own thoughts. "You know, I think a drink sounds lovely," Remus replied with a slow smile, "How about you pour, and I'll start something for dinner? Let's make an evening of it, like we used to."

Sirius made a reach for his cigarette tin and lit one, nodding and grinning, "Some things never change."

He clapped Remus on the shoulder and his hand lingered for a fraction of a second too long, his fingers trailing over the soft material his shirt was woven of. An easy chuckle alleviated the resurgence of tension Sirius felt. "Let's get inside, it's too dark."

Turning on his heel, Sirius made his way back to the door to the roof, the end of his cigarette bobbing along ahead of him as a tiny orange beacon amid the fallen night. He waited for Remus to follow with the tea service and locked the door once they were both inside.

The house actually felt somewhat warm and welcoming now. Chalking it up to him finally getting a grip on himself and no longer feeling inclined to lash out passive-aggressively at Remus, Sirius' step regained its natural bounce of somewhat cocky self-assurance, which was clearly indicative of his restored good cheer. Hopefully it would last.

Sirius wound down the flights of stairs, spotting no sign of the wretched Kreacher, until he arrived in the vast kitchen and illuminated the space with a single wave of his hand. It felt lonesome and empty without the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, and the other Order members milling around with sandwiches or sitting at the table and talking over mugs of butterbeer or tea. Sirius went over to a dusty cabinet with a padlock on it and opened it to reveal several very old looking bottles. "Some of the last of the reserve I found in the cellar when I got here," he explained as he withdrew a bottle from inside with the sound of glass clinking as he spoke. "Stuff could probably strip every wall in this house, I reckon," he snorted as he began to root through a drawer for a corkscrew.

"Ah, then it shouldn't taste any different than what we used to drink when we were underage at Hogwarts then, so it will be just like old times," Remus teased with a smile as he went to the pantry to inspect what he might have to work with for dinner. Happy to see that it was stocked with various items, Remus reminded himself to thank Molly Weasley next time he saw her, as he knew it was her doing that there was anything in the house at all. Remus knew that since he had just gotten Sirius to eat that small sandwich his chance at getting him to eat a big meal was nil, so he chose to make a small pasta dish with a green salad. Grabbing the ingredients that he thought he needed he placed them on the counter and started to prepare the sauce.

Remus heard Sirius muttering and cursing under his breath and looked over to see what was wrong and smiled slightly when he saw that Sirius seemed to be having problems with the cork. "Do you need help over there?" Remus asked and Sirius gave him a look that told him that not only did he not need help, but that he could mind his own business. Remus kept a snort of amusement in while he returned to cooking a simple sauce, and left Sirius to keep working on the elusive cork while muttering something about what it could do to his mother. A minute or two later a very distinct pop was heard and the full rich aroma of chardonnay started to fill the kitchen. "It smells as if it hasn't turned at all," Remus said as he added the pasta to the boiling water and moved to start cutting the vegetables for the salad. Sirius offered him a glass and he tasted it. "No, it seems that this is just lovely," Remus said and took another swallow, "this will go well with dinner, good choice. Now, would you mind setting a couple of places for us?" Remus asked while he placed his glass on the counter to finish the salad then used his wand to place it on the table.

He hummed softly as he worked occasionally looking over his shoulder to see what Sirius was up to, and he grinned to himself as he saw that Sirius had indeed set the table as asked. When the food was finally prepared and on the table, it seemed like there was something off. Remembering that he saw a block of parmesan cheese in the pantry, it didn't take him long to find it and as he grabbed his find he heard a grating, hiss mutter, "Dirty wolf scum desecrating the house of my Master, should be sliced to ribbons with the silver he should."

Remus paused for a moment and then said with a tired sigh, "Good evening Kreacher. Care to join us for dinner, or do you plan on sitting in the pantry plotting my demise?"

Sirius had just settled into his seat when he heard Remus utter that filthy name: _Kreacher_.

The house elf glowered menacingly at Remus from the doorway, wringing his hands as he shuffled into the room, hugging the wall as if he thought that would provide sufficient camouflage from the two grown men. "Filthy drunk scoundrels, desecrating the family wine store, wasting it like it was nothing more than water... yes, they're awful creatures, unnatural things, Kreacher thought they all had gone..." he hissed darkly. "Kreacher should go tell the Lady of the house right aw–"

"Oh bloody fuck, I knew it was too good to be true that I hadn't been graced with the delight of _his _company yet today," Sirius swore as he angrily pushed his chair back and got to his feet. Grabbing the corkscrew that lay on the counter next to where Remus had been chopping vegetables, Sirius turned on the elf and scowled, wielding the utensil and clearly not afraid to use it. Standing at his full height, his shadow fell over Kreacher, who now stopped in his tracks where he was up against the wall. "You! Get out of here, wretched piece of filth, before I take you up and feed you to Buckbeak - he's been growing tired of ferrets," he growled while walking nearer. "Go on!" Sirius nudged the elf out of the room with no small amount of unnecessary cruelty, and called out after him in a harsh whisper so as to not disturb the portrait, "Bring up some more bottles from downstairs, I'm going to send them out as gifts. _Now_."

Shaking his head, Sirius tossed the corkscrew back on the counter and muttered a few choice obscenities while Kreacher stalked away in the opposite direction of the wine cellar. "Do you think Hermione would be offended if I said that the corkscrew only slipped?" he said snarkily on his way back to the table where Remus sat, an expression of quiet amusement playing on his handsome face. He sat down and stared at his plate, as if unsure what to do next. Instead, he made a reach for his wine glass and took a deep swallow before setting it back down on the table. "Very well, then," Sirius said quickly, glancing at Remus from across the table before redirecting his attention to the mess of greens in the bowl next to the steaming heap of pasta.

"I think if you told her that it would be a good possibility that an accident would happen with you and that corkscrew during the next holiday," Remus said to him good naturedly as he picked up his fork and started in on his salad. After a moment Remus noticed that Sirius wasn't eating his food, and he put his fork down and looked at him. The other man seemed to be at a loss looking at his food and picking at it lightly, worry began to touch him as he looked at his gaunt friend not eating and finally decided it's time to say something. "Is there something wrong with your plate, Sirius?"

"No," Sirius replied, voice stiff. "It's all lovely." With some minor hesitation, he picked up his fork and started to chip away at the fresh salad Remus had taken the time to prepare. It was not difficult to feel the awkwardness of it and the concern Remus was giving off in regard to Sirius' health. Sure, since adolescence Sirius had always been on the lean, even skinny, side, but he could put away as much or more food than someone twice his size, not to mention out-drink them three to one odds. But when he was under extreme strain due to stress, depression, or whatever else… it was an entirely different story. His appearance deteriorated as he went unshaven and his hair grew out in a mass of tangled curls that fell in front of his yes, his appetite vanished, and his vices seemed to intensify tenfold, meaning that his daily meal usually consisted of a large goblet of wine and five cigarettes.

Sirius got through half of his salad before pushing it away and ladling some of the pasta and sauce onto his plate. Admittedly, the aroma piqued his senses and since Remus was such an exceptional cook, he felt that he couldn't refuse the meal, even if it was only to indulge his friend and not hurt his feelings. Inside, he felt himself start to feel a little bit sick, but that was helped by steadily sipping on the chardonnay.

"After dinner I thought we could go up to the library," Sirius abruptly chimed in with. "Knowing your overwhelming lust for books I had pulled out some old volumes I thought might interest you. Merlin knows I don't need them for anything," he finished, smirking wryly. "Kreacher shouldn't bother us," he added, glancing at the clock on the wall, "he's holed up with my father's old trousers by now, so he won't move until tomorrow morning."

With the subject of books and the library brought up, Remus' ears perked up considerably and a large smile came to his face. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea! Perhaps we could have a glass of sherry and I could read to you for a bit?" he asked as he mused at how pleasant it all sounded while he finished his meal.

A few minutes later while Remus was cleaning up the dishes and Sirius was once again getting the drinks ready, he noticed that even though Sirius had eaten something it wasn't a lot, especially compared to the four glasses of wine he had consumed during the meal. _I've got to get him to start eating again. He's wasting away_, Remus thought as he entered the library, where his old friend stood waiting for him with a glass of sherry held out to him.

They both settled in, Remus in a dark green overstuffed armchair with mahogany trim and legs and Sirius lying on the couch next to him with his long hair over the arm. Remus started to read aloud to them, and halfway through the evening as he continued to read with his friend listening he started to feel something come over him that felt so foreign yet familiar, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It wasn't uncomfortable but it wasn't common either; he puzzled over it as he continued to read, occasionally taking small sips of his sherry. Looking over at Sirius who had his eyes closed while he listened to Remus read to him, his face relaxed and his glass of sherry held in his hands which were on his chest, he looked relaxed for the first time since Remus had seen him again. They were cozy and absorbed in each other's company, it felt right, and it was how things should be.

It was in that moment that Remus came to the realization of what it was he had been feeling, and the knowledge of it caused him to have a very satisfied smile come to his lips, for the first time in twelve years Remus felt at peace.


	2. October

1It was thundering outside when Sirius awoke on October the 31st, 2004.

Next to his sumptuous bed, which was covered in fine dark red silk sheets and a luxuriant duvet that was the same that he had slept in as a youth living with his mother, father, and younger brother, was his nightstand, carved out of African ebony with silver enameling. On it laid several sheaves of parchment from old owl posts, an ink-stained quill, a glass ashtray brimming with orange cigarette ends, a crystal glass with dark, blood-red liquid gathered in a sticky pool at the bottom, and an antique silver candelabra with several red wax candles stuck in the arms. His parents had never caught on to the concept of electricity, so the house to this day remained reliant on fire for both its heating and its lighting. To Sirius, it felt like a mausoleum… it was dark, dusty, drafty, and he was little more than a corpse. The Black Family Crypt, admission just 3 Knuts and your sanity.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his left hand, Sirius sat up and swung his legs around to place his bare feet on the cold floor, covered in tapestries. All was silent and still save for the lashing of fat raindrops against the fogged windowpanes. A cavernous yawn chased the final remnants of sleep from his haggard but somehow regally handsome face and he tossed his shaggy, severely unkempt mass of black curly hair from his eyes. Since September it had grown at least two inches, giving him quite an impressive, albeit untended, mane. From the foot of his massive bed, he grabbed the threadbare crimson henley and pulled it on to cover his pale, faintly emaciated form. He glanced over his shoulder at the wall behind him, which was composed of a vast window crisscrossed by black iron bars. Although the sky was filled with wisps of dark cloud pregnant with rain and lightning, the brightness was still enough to make him squint and turn away, blinking.

He flopped backward and yawned again, his arms cast to either side of his body. The bed was huge, more than enough room for two people… _Ha, I can't even remember the last time I had anybody in here,_ he mused ruefully, then sighed and grimaced when his thoughts took their normal course and ended up at a certain Remus Lupin, perhaps the most oblivious individual Sirius had ever met. He could feel himself growing angry and frustrated in more ways than the obvious, and before he let his mind wander too far, he sat back up and cocked his head, cracking his neck.

After stretching out the kinks in his tightened muscles, Sirius got up from the bed and crossed the room into the bath connected to his chamber and splashed some cold water in his bloodshot eyes (_I drink too fucking much,_ he thought darkly), then promptly lit a cigarette.

It had been this way for nearly two months, or ever since 12 Grimmauld Place had seen the departure of most of the occupants it had housed over the course of the summer. The Hogwarts kids had all been whisked back to school for first term; the adults had returned to their posts at the Ministry or at home, only to turn up every so often in the event of an Order meeting. Tonks would come by more often than others, being female and particularly attentive to two bachelors holed up by themselves in that big house. Outside of that… the only other living things in the house aside from him were Kreacher and Remus.

The clock over the entrance to his room read 2:15 in the afternoon. Downstairs, right on cue, the resonant chime of the large grandfather clock in the front hall signaled the quarter past the hour. Surprisingly, no shrieks followed. That either meant that it was going to be a splendid day for once, or something was horribly awry.

Pulling up the pyjama bottoms that had ridden down on his hips, sharp like razorblades, Sirius sallied forth from the room and immediately sensed amid the thick mire of his hangover that something was up. A chill laced with the smell of rain whooshed through the hall. Remus must have been out.

At that realization, Sirius' mood plummeted into a nosedive, and crashed at the bottom of the flight of steps he had begun to descend onto the first floor of the house. _He always goes out just to mock me,_ he thought irrationally, _goes out and forgets about me, trapped in this fucking prison all the bloody time. I think he must enjoy it, seeing me squirm when he practically begs me to ask him about his day when he gets back for dinner. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't come back._

Now that he was officially in a dangerously volatile state, his mind whirring with various loathing thoughts regarding his friend, Sirius crept downstairs, sniffing every now and again to locate where Remus was in the labyrinthine expanse of the house. "Remus?" he called out tentatively, voice thick and hoarse from exhaustion and too many cigarettes, but still sharp enough to indicate his poisonous demeanor.

Remus had awoken early on October 31st, knowing full well what day it was. He had actually been looking forward to it, as this was the first year that he was actually able to spend it with someone that meant something to him for many years. Yes, Remus Lupin had other friends, but none that were considered as dear and close as who he considered his first true friends while growing up attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew had been with him through thick and thin, never turned him away; even when they found out that he had lycanthropy. They had spent all of their school years running together as the Marauders, each of them brothers, each of them loyal to one another.

Fifteen years ago all of that had changed. It was fifteen years ago today that all of their worlds fell apart. It was the night of Halloween when Voldemort showed up at the secret location that the James' lived with his wife, Lily and their one-year old son Harry bringing destruction in his wake. Voldemort had killed James and Lily and when he went to dispose of Harry something thankfully had gone terribly wrong for him. When he gave the young boy the killing curse the boy was left unharmed save for a lightening bolt patterned scar on his forehead, while Voldemort, himself, lost his powers becoming something not really alive, but not dead either. Harry was quickly gathered and taken to muggle relatives to be raised until he was old enough to attend Hogwarts himself, which he did five years ago; while Voldemort went into hiding trying to regain his strength until fairly recently.

At the time it was believed that it was Sirius that had betrayed his friends, and Remus was shocked and hurt by the thought. It had shattered him, he knew Sirius better than anyone, and he would have never thought that Sirius would do something like this. Not to him, not to James; it didn't seem right, and yet all the evidence had pointed to him. Peter had even gone after Sirius to hunt him down to make him pay for what he did to James and Lily, and Sirius not only ended up killing Peter but a group of muggles as well in an explosion which caused him to end up in Azkaban prison. It wasn't until last year that Sirius was able to escape and prove not just to Remus, but to Harry, Dumbledore and the Order that the real traitor had been Peter Pettigrew who was actually alive and well, hidden in his animagi form with the Weasley family. In fact, Pettigrew was the pet rat of Harry's best friend Ron.

Only Sirius had known of Peter's betrayal, it was his own knowledge of his innocence that kept Sirius sane all those years in Azkaban. Sirius had come so close to clearing his name that night at Hogwarts, had it not been for Remus. That fact weighed heavy on Remus even they never spoke of it. It had been a full moon that night, and Remus in a hurry thinking he needed to save Harry hadn't taken his dose of Wolfsbane potion. All of them had tied Pettigrew up and was getting ready to turn him in when the moon came out causing Remus to transform into his wild Werewolf state. If it hadn't been for Sirius, Remus would have killed four innocent people that night, including James' son Harry. It was the opportunity that Peter needed to get away, and he did. Without Peter, there was no way to prove that Sirius was innocent. The fact that they were unable to catch Peter made Sirius still a fugitive causing him to stay in hiding. Now he was trapped in the same family home he tried to flee from as a boy, 12 Grimmauld Place. Remus had a hard time knowing that it was his fault that he prevented his friend from being a free man. Add that on top of the fact that for years he believed that Sirius had betrayed James' and Lily, it was a wonder that Remus could even look Sirius in the eye; yet Sirius never acted as if he held Remus responsible.

For the last fifteen years, Halloween has been more than a little depressing for Remus; but this year he has different plans, this year he's with his oldest friend, Sirius. He wants them to celebrate it together changing the holiday from one of sorrow to one of hope. If they could go so many years apart with such terrible circumstances only to find each other again only proved that hope was still alive and something to treasure. So, Remus awoke and began baking all of Sirius' favourites that he could remember. Sugar cookies, muffins, a pumpkin pie, and of course he didn't forget the chocolate cake, which was really more for himself than for Sirius.

After the baking was accomplished, Remus went about decorating the sitting room where he had different faced jack-o-lanterns, each charmed to levitate around the room. He had traditional Muggle black and orange streamers, and had more than once said things you normally wouldn't hear him say (_I've been spending too much time with Sirius_, Remus thought with rueful enjoyment.) as they tangled and drooped on him when he least expected it. He had placed a large bowl of sweets in a bowl on the table, all of them wrapped merrily in colourful wrappings; all of them had been favoured by Sirius during his days at Hogwarts. To add to the mood the sconces had been lowered and since Grimmauld had an abundance of them, the whole set-up went lovely with the already existing cobwebs. Remus even charmed a few pieces of black paper to appear as bats that would flit about the room, dive bombing when you least expected it.

He had just finished when he heard the clock chime a quarter past two in the afternoon. _Sirius should be getting up at anytime I'm sure_, he thought as his excitement grew of seeing his friend's reaction to what he had done. _This will be our best Halloween ever, it will be the start of new beginnings,_ he thought when he heard Sirius' voice call out for him. Remus frowned a bit when he heard the tone but thought that once Sirius saw everything he would lose his sore tone and cheer up instantly. "In the sitting room, Sirius," Remus called out careful not to be too loud as to disturb the painting of Sirius' Mother in the hallway.

Frowning, Sirius' footsteps traced the route to the sitting room by rote, and his mood swirled further into annoyed consternation. Out of his peripheral vision he noticed Kreacher slinking away, muttering something about a mess in the kitchen and "a disgraceful display of common crudeness." The aroma of cinnamon and chocolate and other various baking scents was extremely out of place, especially since Molly had been absent for several weeks now. _Nobody in Grimmauld **bakes**..._

Sirius reached the archway that served as the entrance to the vast sitting room. Standing in the middle, a cloud of what appeared to be live black bats flapping around his head, was Remus, appearing cheerful and beaming with pride.

"What's going on in here... ?" Sirius spoke slowly, his eyes narrowing in harsh scrutiny of the farce of a spectacle his vision was met with. His expression morphed from one of mild irritation to angry disbelief. There were garish streamers strung across the chandeliers and bookcases, with grinning and grimacing pumpkins suspended in mid-air as they spun on invisible axes. Along with the dim light illuminating the room, the place had adopted an even creepier atmosphere, and it was... tacky. "What the fuck is all this, Remus?" he asked, tone void of any and all amusement, and instead imbued with acidic disapproval.

Remus' smile faded slightly at Sirius' surly attitude, but he tried to push it aside as Sirius just being Sirius. "What does it look like, Sirius? It's Halloween, let's get into the spirit of it for once," he said as he walked towards his friend with a friendly smile. "This year we should celebrate instead of dread it," he said his voice full of hope as he was close enough to clap his friend on the shoulder, "This year we get to spend it together, and that should alone change things."

"Celebrate what?" Sirius interjected scarcely before Remus had finished speaking. "What do you mean, 'spirit of it'?" He looked around, incredulous, until finally fixing his friend with a piercing glare that did not disguise any of his ire. "You've just gone and made a mess," Sirius spat, his temper rising along with the volume of his voice, "we aren't fucking kids anymore, there's no point!" He grabbed the end of the nearest orange streamer and pulled it down, tearing it to shreds in his hands. "What made you think this was a good idea?" he sneered, then tossed the destroyed crepe paper into the fireplace, which roared to life immediately and reduced the scrap of paper to cinders in less than a second.

The smile on Remus' face faded completely as he watched Sirius' temper flare with a sense of shock. "No, Sirius," Remus started as he tried to remain calm but he was quickly running out of patience with him as he watched Sirius start to tear at the decorations. "We aren't kids anymore, but that doesn't mean that we cannot have fun and try and enjoy our lives. I thought it would be nice for once to try and be a bit festive without an excuse instead of sitting here in this dank house feeling sorry for how our life turned out like shite and drinking the night away like you've been wanting us to do. Why can't you just be happy that you are here now…with me. It's Halloween, Sirius, it's time we made this a good holiday instead of a bad one!" Remus grabbed his arm as Sirius went to grab another streamer. "Stop it," he said his voice calm but lethal. "You say we aren't kids, stop acting like one!"

"Let go of me," Sirius growled very threateningly. His body was tense with anger, irrational as it was. He was filled with self-righteous purpose, and now that it had been tapped in to there was nothing that could stop him; he was far too obstinate, even to Remus' reasoning.

He roughly extricated his arm from Remus' grasp and took a step back, his eyes fixed on his friend's face. In a sudden upwelling of rage, Sirius brought his fist down on the mantle, causing several candlesticks to tip over and crash to the ground in front of the fireplace. "Enjoy my life? That's what you want me to do in here?" he began, voice low and calculating in its ominousness. "You fault me for feeling sorry for myself when all my life has been for the last fifteen years has been spent in some kind of prison? Be it Azkaban, or on the run from the Ministry, and now back here under house arrest, in the very same place I denounced before I was even of age?"

With each word he spoke, Sirius' hands tightened into fists that just ached to pound into something until his knuckles bled from being skinned. Behind his eyes, he felt fierce, bitter tears tingleand begin to well up at the corners. "And you say to me, all high and mighty in your conviction, that I should be festive now, on the anniversary of the day when I lost everything?" Sirius tried to blink back the wetness in his eyes, but in vain; a tear rolled quickly down his cheek before he was fast to wipe it away with his sleeve. "I have nothing here," he said, voice shaking, "I have NO reason to wake up in the morning. The ONLY reason I'm still alive is because I'm too _fucking_ cowardly to kill myself, I'm still clinging to some kind of false hope." He paused, drawing a deep breath, and added very quietly, "I don't even have you."

Sirius managed to pull his arm away, but continued his diatribe while Remus stood looking at him with frustration that quickly turned to alarm as the words that Sirius spoke cut him like a sharp knife. The fact that Sirius was so angry about having to be at Grimmauld was no surprise, and Remus could understand how it would be frustrating; is some ways he too was a prisoner there. Of course, it was by choice so he could continue to be around Sirius, but it was still true; Remus was just as much a prisoner as Sirius was except when Dumbledore had a mission for him, which had not been often in the last month if at all.

The fact that Sirius just said that he had no reason to live and nothing to wake up for made Remus feel as if he was nothing, but it was what Sirius said last that upset him most. "How can you say you don't even have me? I'm here. Standing right in front of you, trying to do something to make you happy; it's like you don't want to see that, Sirius. What do I have to do to make you realize that I'm here with you?" losing his usual calm demeanor Remus grabbed down one of the streamers yanking it off the ceiling brutally. "I went to this trouble for you, you big Sod, but you wouldn't notice because you are too busy wallowing! Get. The. Fuck. Over. It! You're alive, it's more that Lily and James got offered. You are alive, and I am here with you. Wake. The. Fuck. Up!" Remus screamed his cheeks flush with anger as he held the streamer so tightly in his hand that it had knuckles turned white.

It was an all-out screaming match now, and Sirius was determined to win. "You don't fucking GET IT! YOU NEVER HAVE!" he yelled into Remus' face, "How_ FUCKING_ OBVLIVIOUS can you be! I _KNOW _you remember, but it's like you've got fucking selective _amnesia_, just like nothing EVER happened! You haven't any IDEA of how long this has been tormenting me, Remus!" His hands went to his hair, tugging at the roots as his fingers tangled into the curls as his hands balled into angry fists. "You don't SEE what's right IN FRONT OF YOU, and I don't know if it's because you're blind or you just outright refuse!"

His normally pallid face flushed from shouting and the high heat of the moment, Sirius turned away, his hands jittery and his heart thumping in his chest. He couldn't believe what he'd just said. This was the closest he'd come to directly bringing up how he'd been in love with Remus since their fifth year at school, and the closest he'd come to questioning him why, after they spent three passionate days in Italy, that it was over in the blink of an eye, nothing said, and nothing settled. Without giving Remus another look, he left the sitting room.

The hallway seemed to throb and spin and before Sirius could reach the staircase, his knees gave way underneath him, and he sunk to the floor in the fetal position as he supported his weight by leaning against the wall. Silent sobs shook his shoulders, and made his tears only stream down faster.

Remus' eyes widened and Sirius started to bellow at him about being oblivious. _He's finally brought it out. Oh Merlin, we are going to have to talk about it now_, Remus thought as he ran both of his hands through his hair. The frustration and anger still strongly settled inside of him along with guilt as Remus saw the torture and pain he'd caused Sirius by his inability to discuss the past with him. Remus at a loss had nothing to say to this outburst as his eyes stayed wide; Sirius' words sinking into his own system. "I'm not blind," Remus muttered to no one because Sirius had already left the room. "I just don't know exactly what to say." Remus stood alone in the sitting room where the pumpkins twirled festively and the bats flittered around his head, both of his hands still in his hair and his stomach in knots. Slowly, soft, almost non-existent sounds started to reach his sensitive ears, and after a moment he realized what it was: Sirius crying. It was that sound that made Remus finally move from the spot he was rooted in, and he stepped calmly out of the sitting room to the find Sirius on the floor at the steps, curled up. Remus walked over to him and sat down next to him reaching out to touch him, but Sirius flinched away from him. The action only caused Remus to hurt more than he already did, and he realized that he needed to change this situation somehow. He needed to either learn to talk about it, dealing with whatever was to come next, or he needed to leave.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out for Sirius again and this time touched his unkempt hair softly, not letting Sirius move away from him. "You are right. I often don't see things in front of me even if their neon signs are buzzing loudly. I'm not sure what it is, but I never want to see you like this. I never want to hurt you, and the knowledge that I have and did…it tears me up inside, Sirius. I'm a prick at times, even if I don't know it," Remus said to him softly, knowing that if he were to speak in his normal voice that the portrait of Sirius' Mother would start screaming at the top of her lungs. "I know we have never spoken of _it_," he said not even daring to mention what 'it' was, "but we need to, I'm just not ready to do it this second. Can you please just give me a little more time?"

_He refers to it all as if it was some affliction, some horrendous accident,_ Sirius thought balefully as he wiped his eyes and staved off more tears as hard as he could. He found that he could not shy away from the hand combing through his lank and bedraggled hair; despite the intense feelings of resentment he held for Remus, they did not overpower his hopeless, albeit unrequited, adoration. He hated himself for it; why couldn't he just let it go, since by all evidence Remus did not want what Sirius did? Sirius remained still and silent as he listened to Remus speak in an undertone. The portrait was not far away from where they sat.

"_Can you please just give me a little more time?"_

The question, spoken so innocently, froze and lingered in mid-air. Deadpanned silence ensued, and Sirius felt his heart crack_. More time? Fifteen years hasn't been long enough? I can't do this anymore…._ With a jerk of his neck, Sirius shook off Remus' calming touch and ungainly got to his feet. He gazed down at Remus, who was seated on the bottom step and looking up at him with a thousand pleas in his eyes. Sirius did not speak, he did not sigh or gesture. He simply placed his hand on the banister and walked up the stairs.

At the top, he paused, facing the window before him which was covered in condensation from the cold rain that pounded down on the building. For a half a moment, Sirius considered speaking, but elected to just round the corner and disappear from sight inside his mahogany fortress.

Remus stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched as Sirius walked away without a word. A groan of anguish escaped him as he ran both of his hands in his hair and balled them up grabbing handfuls of hair. _Damn it! Why is this so complicated?_ Remus thought as he was about to start climbing the stairs to talk to Sirius.

He had only taken two steps when his ears picked up something in the sitting room, a voice calling out to either him or Sirius. Remus turned and walked into the sitting room to find the head of Albus Dumbledore in the fireplace. "Remus, Snuffles are you there?"

Remus crouched down in front of the mantle so the older wizard could see him and said, "It's me, Albus, Remus. I'm here, is everything okay? Should I get S-Snuffles?"

The older man in the fire shook his head. "No, actually I was looking for you, Remus. There is something that I need you to do for us," Albus started out and Remus nodded to let him know that he understood that it was a mission that Albus had for the Order. _Merlin, the timing here is something_, Remus thought as he felt torn, in ways he felt that he needed to be here and work out the issues that Sirius and him were having, but the other part of him welcomed the mission so that he wouldn't have to deal with those very issues. "I have sent you an owl with the information that you will need," Albus continued and then stopped his eyes narrowing slightly as if to get a better look at Remus. "Is everything okay there, Remus?" The older man's brow furrowed and he looked concerned.

For a moment Remus paused, knowing that there were certain things he didn't want to say, and in ways Remus knew that in some sense that Albus knew the tension that had to be here between them. Albus just _knew_ things; it was what happened when one was talented at Legilimency. "Yes, of course," Remus said, "considering the fact that it is Halloween, Sir." He paused for a moment and looked down, thinking of the mess he had just made due to his own disregard to Sirius' feelings, thinking that since they were together that the pain could just disappear. "Things are well enough. I will look for the owl promptly. When do you need me to leave?"

"Immediately," was the response that Albus gave, but Remus could see that his mentor's eyes were troubled, and that knowledge was confirmed when Albus next spoke. "If you are needed there Remus…" he began.

"No, Sir. I will do what needs to be done. Do not worry," Remus told him. _I'll be doing enough for the both of us,_ he thought as he started to hear the distinct sound of an owl tapping its beak at the window. "The owl has arrived, Sir, I will leave as soon as I am able. I will contact you soon, Albus," he said as he started to get up from the mantle to go to the window.

"Very well," sighed Albus and he disappeared from the fire as Remus opened the window, letting the owl in and took the time to read twice through the assignment carefully. When he was done his eyes glanced up towards where the stairs were, thinking of Sirius. His grey eyes rimmed with a darker hue as worry and doubt filled him, leaving him feeling empty as he left the room and started towards the stairs again with his orders in his hands.

As he reached the top of the stairwell he looked over towards Sirius' shut door wondering if he should go and talk to him first. _You have an assignment. Get to it,_ his mind told him, and he knew that the orders in his hand were important to all of them, not just the two of them. He was being called to a higher purpose now, and Sirius would have to understand that. _Maybe we need the time, both of us…for him to cool off and for me to realize what I'm actually going to say. Maybe this is the best course right now?_ That lone thought was the rationalization that Remus needed for the decision he silently made. Instead of going to speak to Sirius first and try and smooth it out a little he turned and went to his own room and started to pack.


	3. November Part I

Remus didn't leave the house until midnight. He hadn't spoken to Sirius. In fact he didn't even see Sirius, as he had stayed locked in his room for the rest of the day. After Remus had finished packing what he needed and plotted his course of action, he took the time to go downstairs and clear out the sitting room of the decorations he had so painfully put up just a few scant hours before, his own mood fluxing as he realized just how quickly ideas can turn sour. It was a lesson he should have already known well, but Remus had always tried to be hopeful; it was in his nature.

Remus then went into the kitchen and prepared not just food for his own journey, but made sure that there was food prepared for Sirius; he knew that if there wasn't something made already that Sirius wouldn't eat. _He's hardly going to eat anyway_, Remus silently groused to himself and then decided to do something that would most likely vex Sirius, but he felt was necessary. Going back into the den he picked up a piece of parchment and wrote a quick note to Molly Weasley explaining that he would be away on an assignment and asking if she would mind checking in twice a week or so while he was away. He knew that she wouldn't as most of them had been on an unsaid 'Sirius Watch', with him heading up the operation. Albus had made sure that there were several owls available to them in case it was needed, and Remus used one of them to send the note to Molly. He then decided that one more note needed to be written and he moved back to the desk to write it.

By the time he had finished, having to have written several drafts to get it right, the day was gone and he had to leave. With the note in hand he made his way back to his room and grabbed his things, then moved his way back into the hallway. He paused as he looked at Sirius' door. He walked slowly over to it feeling the waves of hurt and anger coming from the room, for a moment he hesitated and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He brought his hand up to knock on the door thinking that maybe he should actually talk to him first, but he couldn't bring himself to it when he remembered the expression he had last seen on Sirius' face. He let his hand drop and slid the letter under the door, then turned quickly and moved down the stairs. _Coward!_ He silently accused himself, but a part of him didn't care. He needed to get out of that house before anything worse could happen.

_Sirius,_

_I am aware of the fact that there are things that we need to discuss, and yes, I know it is long overdue. As I was on my way to speak to you after your departure earlier today, Albus flooed a message to me; I have been called out on assignment. I must leave immediately. I know that the timing for this is terrible, but you know as I do that what I do for the Order is not just important to the two of us, but also for the safety of those we love. I will not let anymore destruction happen in our lives without doing everything that I can to prevent it._

_I am not leaving to get away from you, or to prevent us from working out the things that we so apparently need to. I'm going because this is what I have to do to try and make things right so that you can start to live again. _

_Sirius, I care for you more than you think I do, you are the closest person to me. To watch you in the depth of your containment is troubling and painful to watch. I feel helpless at times as I sit here day after day watching you become an empty shell of the person that I knew so well. If I can do something that can end this threat, not just to you but to all of us and find a way to do it while capturing Peter to make him pay; then I'll do what it takes. That is why I'm leaving on this assignment, but I worry that you will think I'm leaving you and that Sirius, is not the case at all. I will be back as soon as I can, and I will send you letters when I am able. In the meantime, I ask that you please be patient with me. I am at times oblivious, but my unwillingness to speak has not been one of oblivion; but of not knowing what to say exactly._

_In the meantime, please try and take care of yourself. I have food already prepared in the pantry and icebox for you, and Molly should be coming by once or twice a week to make sure that you have been eating and taking care of whatever else you might need. I will try my best to come back quickly._

_Until then I am forever your,_

_Remus_

Through the skinny crack of space between the door and floor came a folded sheet of parchment paper whisking across the swath of bare floorboards that stopped when it buttressed against the edge of the tasseled rug next to Sirius' bed.

Sirius' sharp ears detected retreating footsteps following the rustle of paper, and he looked down to zero in on the offending note. He remained where he sat, legs crossed in front of him, with an old notebook he had written in when he was in school opened. During the hours he had been imprisoned in his room after that day's meltdown he had not been idle. On the contrary, Sirius had been a busy man, going through every single drawer, shelf, trunk and hiding place and dragging out every single artifact he could get his hands on. The chamber looked like a hurricane had blown through; clothes and books laid over his desk, armchair, and open trunk. He had a boxful of photographs open at the foot of his bed where miniature versions of himself, Remus, James, Peter, and a host of other friends from yore when they were in the spring of their young lives gallivanted and smiled back at his hollow, shadowed face.

Now in his lap he closed the journal he had been thumbing through with a snap, causing a whoosh of air to move his unkempt hair. The entries sounded, to him, like they had been written by a wholly different person. It caused his heart to hurt while at the same time he found some pearl of comfort in memory, which remained virgin and untainted by the passage of time. It had been these very thoughts he had been rereading that kept the last thread between himself and his sanity intact for all those years while he was fettered and caged on that bleak, cold island where despair and death were the only true murderers.

Inside that book were those old confessional words that chronicled the pranks he instigated with the Marauders, the tale of their self-training toward becoming Animagi after learning Remus' condition, his numerous conquests recounted in graphic and bold detail, secrets he kept while he was growing and changing, and the occasional doodle or couplet scrawled at the corner of a page when he was bored and zoned out during class. He vaguely missed that innocent time, but also drew comfort from knowing that it had once been, and would exist indefinitely on the pages as long as he maintained the constitution to read them.

He had just begun a page headed for July 15, 1985 when the intruding letter made its presence known, bringing with it the amalgamated scents of stress, ink, and regrets.

After watching the paper lie there for a moment, Sirius placed the journal on his nightstand and fluidly slid off the bed to crouch down and pick it up. He tucked his legs underneath of himself and sat back on his heels as he unfurled the letter and began to read, gaze fixed and cold as his eyes scanned back and forth down the scratched page.

Finished, he refolded the note and considered how it would look alongside the other ashes littering the fireplace on the opposite wall. He felt incendiary anger that Molly would be here to fawn over him when all he wanted was to be left alone to his own devices. He resented Remus for making him feel like he was an insolent and helpless infant that needed to be babysat, spoon-fed, and coddled. _All I want is to be alone if I have to be here, _he thought hatefully, a severe grimace marring his features.

As he stewed on that point further, his wrath flared. _He makes me feel like a fucking thumbsucking child! _Sirius thought, his hands curling into fists, one of them effectively crumpling Remus' letter. _Poor Sirius! Look at how pathetic and lame he is, under house arrest like that! What a pity! We simply must look after him, he worries us all so! _

This line of thought caused Sirius to vault up from where he knelt on the floor, in a full blind rage now. He hurled a sound punch at the wall, found that it made him feel better, and repeated it thusly until the skin on his knuckles was raw and red and knicked with splinters. In his other hand the letter remained scrunched up. Breathing hard from the exertion, Sirius finally stopped attacking the wall and examined his injured hand, shaking it to jar his jammed wrist back to functionality. He shoved Remus' letter into the drawer in his night table and slammed it violently, toppling a candlestick in the process. He ignored the clatter when it hit the floor and threw his door open.

The house was silent, dark and brooding as night had fallen long ago. Remus was gone, he knew, and he felt a sick sense of liberation. From nowhere, Sirius felt the unyielding desire to leap for joy. As he let out a resonant whoop of unbridled, crazy elation, the foundations of the old mansion seemed to creak and shake. In the attic, dust from the rafters might've loosened and fallen over old furniture and other belongings stuffed up in storage forever. Downstairs, his mother's portrait began her tirade but, being either cursed or gifted with her lungs, Sirius' insane and sudden ecstatic shouts drowned her out as he traipsed and raced through the house, empty except for the man in his downward spiral into the malignant madness that had been festering and growing since he arrived there.

_November 4, 2004_

_I am hoping that this letter finds you well._

_I have been busy the last few days, which is the reason why I haven't contacted you sooner. It seems that the lead that we received is accurate and panning out quite well. I cannot go into it now, as I'm sure you understand. This does mean that I will be gone for a few days more. You are never far from my thoughts, though. _

_Let Molly know if you need anything and she'll be glad to help you. I'll be home as soon as I can. _

_Thinking of you._

_Always your,_

_Remus_

Shy of a week later, another letter arrived on the talon of a nondescript tawny screech owl. Sirius was in the drawing room staring at the fireplace with a vague, unseeing gaze. He had been there since the day before, doing little more than getting up to relieve himself and poke through the food Remus had carefully left wrapped in the kitchen. Cooped up in the room, he didn't know for whom or what he was waiting, but he remained, not sleeping and moving barely more than what a statue would.

The owl's beak tapping at the window as it flapped extra-hard to hover on a level with the pane jarred Sirius to attention. He snapped his head to the side and spied the bird there. Initially, Sirius thought it was a hallucination. He'd been having those more frequently; the shapes and shadows came to visit him more often with each day he went without feeding himself. Curious, he silently crept over to the window and peered at the owl through the glass for a moment before unlocking it and letting it inside. He tentatively touched the soft feathers on the bird's head while untying the note from its leg. The owl hooted softly, almost purring, and settled its wings against its body so that it could start to preen its feathers. In the nearest armchair, Sirius seated himself and read through the note, expression blank and impassive.

The owl rolled its round yellow eyes over to Sirius and tilted its head to the side, hooting inquisitively.

"Go away," he said to it. "Go away _now_."

It hopped over to the window and took off as if spooked. Sirius watched it fly away, off into the pale afternoon, and smiled. Still grinning, he read through the letter several more times, chuckling to himself at some secret inside joke that only he understood. His laughter became richer with each reading until he was almost in hysterics, near tears as he wheezed for air in between peals of maniacal giggling. He rocked back and forth, uncontrollable in his insanity. Tears rolled from the corners of his eyes until he suddenly fell forward, spilling onto the floor where he promptly passed out from lack of nourishment and sleep.

Molly Weasley showed up at 12 Grimmauld on the morning of the fifth walking briskly up to the door preparing inwardly for what she thought would be a very tense situation. She was well aware that Sirius was not going to be pleased to see her there, his resentment of having to be 'looked after' was well known; but at the same time it had to be done. She set her jaw in a defensive position getting ready to let him know in no uncertain terms that she was there if he liked it or not. She spoke the password that allowed her access to what was not only the Black Family Manor but also the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Upon entering she knew that something wasn't right. There was a heavy feel to the air that caused her to have cold tendrils of fear go down her spine. "Sirius?" she called out warily. When there was no answer she felt her stomach turn and her worry started to increase. _Oh please don't tell me he's killed himself! _her mind panicked as she started to move upstairs to see if maybe he hadn't heard her is all.

She searched the upstairs only to find a very aggressive Buckbeak banging against the bedroom door when she knocked to see if Sirius was in his room. With each moment she feared she would find him dead, or realize that he'd left the house. If that was the case she would have to contact Albus immediately! Molly went downstairs to search when she found Kreacher on the stairs giggling and whispering to the portrait, "Not long now Mistress and he should be gone. The filth will be out of the house again and wees can be alone again, yes just Kreacher and Mistress!" Molly gasped and the wretched creature looked at her and started to giggle throatily and called out in a mocking tone, "Too late…too late the scum is dead!"

Molly ran down the stair pushing him harshly against the wall which started the portrait to start it's tirade about blood traitors being culled, and hurried down into the parlor where she found Sirius face down on the floor. "Oh Merlin!" she cried as she kneeled beside him and touched his neck. His skin was cool but not yet cold and she found what seemed to be a weak pulse. "Oh thank the gods!" she murmured as she rolled him over. She was shocked at his appearance, he was much thinner than when she had last seen him and his hair was matted and dirty. He looked like a mere shadow of himself, and she took her wand out using a spell to move him from off the floor onto the nearby couch. "Oh Sirius, how could you do this to yourself?"

He made no sound and his breathing was shallow. With him being so cold she wanted to get him as warm as possible. She quickly stoked a fire with her wand in the fireplace then ran into the kitchen to see if there was anything in there that might help. For a moment she reached for the fire whiskey and thought better, thinking that perhaps that was the cause for this; instead she was able to find some broth in the ice box and quickly made a bowl of hot soup that she brought to him propping him up to lean on her and started talking to him as she tried to get him to sip some of it. "Now, now Sirius come on lad let's drink some of this up, it's good for you," she said as she held the bowl to his mouth making sure not to spill it on him. "Drink this up and we'll get you on your feet again in no time."

Sirius' eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones before his eyes flew open, firecrackers exploding in blinding knots forming a red streak across his vision. He took a large gulp of air as his pulse spiked back up to normal and he attempted to blink away the stars swirling around his head in a nauseating rollercoaster circuit. A shock of red hair and a pale face advanced and receded as if through the lens of a terrible, kaleidoscopic acid trip, and the air was thick from the stifling odor of chicken broth. He cringed away from the overwhelming smell and discovered that he had somehow migrated to the old moth-eaten couch. _How--?_

The lip of the bowl followed him as if his chin had been snagged by a lure. Some of the steaming yellow broth tipped over the edge and splashed his lips, making them sting from the salt. "What's going on?" he hissed hoarsely, wincing. He had absolutely nothing of a recollection as to how he came to be in this spot with a splitting migraine and Molly Weasley's not-as-plump presence overpowering him. Molly simply pushed the bowl further against his lips and he forced down some of the hot soup, which immediately parched his tongue and throat. He coughed and retched, but it stayed down.

Pushing the soup away, Sirius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his quivering hands. The cushions on the couch seemed to envelop him; the pillows and their luxuriance hyperboled how lank he was now. He was just as skinny as he was when he was a teen-ager, all razorblade hipbones and slender, long-lined limbs. Sirius blinked his eyes several times and that seemed to allay the colored discs impeding his eyesight, and he finally saw Molly in focus. Over her shoulder, he could see the open window letting in the fading daylight and on the floor the curled parchment from an owl post. Returning his utterly confounded and frightened gaze to her, Sirius' eyebrows drew together into a puzzled expression. He wanted to know what apparently bad scene had occurred, but didn't know what questions to pose.

Molly watched as she saw him open his eyes and tried to move away from the soup, but she was insistent. "Come on now Sirius, drink it up, you need your strength," she said and finally he took a swallow. His coughing and retching caused her to frown as a small sip of soup shouldn't cause this sort of reaction unless he hasn't had any nourishment in a long time. Her lips were in a thin line as she felt a sense of irritation looking at him, not understanding why he was doing this to himself when he had so many that loved and cared for him. It was one of the things about Sirius Black that irked her. "For Merlin's sake, Sirius, how long have you been in this state?" she snapped at him before she could get a hold of her senses. "What would Remus say?"

At the mention of Remus, a harsh grimace passed over Sirius' face. Add to the fact that she was eyeing him with copious disapproval and using a snippy tone, and he quickly became disinclined to be anything but ornery and relcalcitrant as a mule.

He shot Molly a fierce look and growled, his arms crossed close against his body, "Piss off, Molly, I'm not suicidal..." Scowling, Sirius turned away moodily and started biting one of his fingernails. His skin crawled under Molly's stare and without making eye contact, he retorted in a dangerous undertone, "You know very well how long I've been like this." But that wasn't true. He presumed she would take it to mean since he had been in this house again, when in fact it had been much longer.

Sirius let his head fall against the sofa with a sigh and the room ceased to wobble. His stomach, which had heaved from the bit of soup he had downed settled and he felt the fog strangling his senses begin to thin and lift. A small smile curved the line of his mouth as he momentarily closed his eyes and allowed himself to be gradually led back into the real world. A clarity that had left with the rest of the house's summer guests seemed to have returned, and Sirius was not loath to permit it.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled heartily with an "Ahhhh..." Whether this was actually a glimmer of sanity or just the next plateau in his lunacy Sirius wasn't aware. Behind his closed eyelids, Sirius' turbulent mind eased into torpid repose, careless to Molly or the soup or the letter. _Oh, it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you..._

Very suddenly, Sirius was alert again, his eyes shining with something remotely wild. He began to salivate from the pervasive smell of the soup Molly had in her lap. Sirius looked at the bowl in earnest and asked, "Are you going to have the rest of that?"

Molly's expression turned from disapproving to worry when she watched him on the couch. _He's not right,_ she thought for a moment as he let out a noise of almost contentment his eyes closed on the couch. She told herself to make sure to contact Remus as soon as she could when he surprised her by asking if he could have the soup. The bowl was almost forgotten in her hand and she blinked for a moment in surprise at the request. _Why would he ask if I was going to have it when he knows I made it for him?_ she wondered, but just shook her head no and said, "No, no please you finish it."

She sat and watched him drink the soup down almost gluttonously, but felt better knowing that he was eating. "Would you like me to make you a sandwich as well, Sirius?"

As Sirius gulped down the broth, he gave Molly a terse shake of his head in response to her question.

He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin after he finished swilling the soup, and sat the empty bowl in his lap. A single bodily shiver swept over him as heat from the crackling fire plus the fortifying boost of actually consuming food hit him all at once and set in. Turning to Molly, he frowned slightly and remembered how highly he scorned her intrusion.

"All right, you've fed the Sirius, I can take care of the rest," he barked sarcastically.

But in reality, he was torn. While he very much detested feeling like he was a hapless, sorry individual by having Molly there to make sure he didn't do anything destructive, at the same time Sirius actually found that he liked having another person with him, even if it wasn't his choice. With this internal split on top of the very dire situation he had created with Remus, Sirius was feeling very precarious in his grip on reality, and when he lost hold... this was where he ended up after the fall: right back where he began, all prickly, selfish obstinance.

Before Molly replied to him, Sirius moved the bowl onto the nearest table and got up from the couch. He was feeling the itch to smoke because he couldn't remember the last time, and so he made his way on newly steady feet over to the mantle where he kept a case of rolling papers and shredded tobacco leaf. Behind him he could detect Molly's eyes on his back, and he turned back to face her without looking at her as he ran the tip of his tongue along the paper and sealed the cigarette. _If I told her the truth, would she understand?_

Molly didn't say anything when Sirius dismissed her; this was in fact what she had been expecting from the very beginning. Finding him on the floor hadn't been part of the plan, but it seemed that since it had happened that it gave her a bit more of a standing for staying. He could hardly refuse that she shouldn't watch him for at least a small bit of time to make sure that it didn't happen again.

She was about to answer him when he jumped up suddenly and walked to the mantle, his back to her, and she sighed softly as she watched him start to roll a cigarette. "Actually, I'll be spending the night here. Arthur is out doing raids this evening. I didn't feel like being alone at the Burrow this evening, and I knew it was about time for me to come and make some meals for you anyway," she said and felt a twinge of sadness as she watched him light the cigarette as she looked at her old friend taking in his appearance and the fog of dispossession that surrounded him. "I figured you could use the hot meal and the company."

The fact that Arthur was at a raid was true, but she could have easily stayed at the Burrow as there were things to do. Yet, she had made a promise to Remus, and she also knew that if it was her she wouldn't want to stay in this desolate and malignant house by herself either. Sirius needed the company, even if he didn't want to admit to himself. The smell of tobacco started to fill the room causing her nose wrinkled just a tad but doesn't say anything about it. As Sirius turned his face she watched the outline of his face and how drawn and unhappy he looked, her face softened and she said, "Come, Sirius, we can go to the kitchen and you can keep me company."

As Molly spoke, Sirius brought himself to meet her imploring eyes and when he did, felt a corner of the winter in his heart turn into spring. It made him uncomfortable, as he had made himself quite at home in his misery. Yet, this was still Molly, the same person possessed of a fiery compassion that he knew and found the solace of a tender heart within. Even though he was stubborn and difficult, Molly wouldn't give up so easily on him now, as she hadn't back then. Sirius would be wrong to turn away her charity now.

He took a long drag off of his cigarette while his gaze followed Molly as she crossed the room toward the kitchen, and when she reached the doorway he skulked after her in the manner of a kicked puppy. For now, Remus' letter was left alone on the dusty floor.

Sirius seated himself in one of the wooden chairs just to the right of the head of the long mess table that was designed to accommodate the many mouths of the Order of the Phoenix. Molly putzed around at the counter while he smoked in leaden, brooding silence. He wasn't sure what to say to her, but knew that he had to think of _something_. It was just so hard; and Sirius tasted fear as he realized just how much he wanted somebody to divulge to, but felt frustrated that he couldn't bring himself to verbalize his introspection. As his mind continued to chatter, Sirius felt the space behind his eyes start to throb and tingle from a stress headache; he brought up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to stave off the pain that made his vision go wonky. Sirius forced himself to cease his line of scattered thought and piped up, "Could you fix me a cup of coffee?"

Molly started in the kitchen by cleaning the counters; she suspected that they had hardly been used since Remus had left. Most likely that was when they had been cleaned last as well, so she pulled out a rag from the first drawer by the sink and using her wand started it to scouring the tops. She had gone to the ice box and was taking stock of what needed to be bought when she heard his request.

"Of course, Sirius," she said and immediately started the coffee thinking that it was good that he was making requests for coffee instead of fire whiskey. She turned to ask if he had any thoughts on supper when she saw him pinching the bridge of his nose in pain. "Headache?" she asked, her face concerned, wondering if it was a hold over from him not eating; suddenly she was glad that she was staying the night to watch over him. "There is some headache potion in the cupboard in the bathroom, let me get it for you."

Sirius nodded his affirmation and accepted both the coffee and medicine without protest. His whole body sagged under the drain of the house and his depressed solitude. Gratefully, Sirius downed the potion and chased it with a swallow of black coffee, which effectively masked the disagreeable taste of the potion. His dark-ringed eyes turned to Molly who watched him, anxiety plain in her posture, with her hands gripping the top of the chair back next to him. "Thank you," he mumbled so quietly that almost he didn't hear himself.

Pervasive silence started to regrow, save for the magically scrubbing cloth swirling around on the counter, but Sirius didn't want it to come back. He was thankful that Molly was here; he wouldn't have felt comfortable if it had been anybody else that wasn't Remus. Not Kingsley or Moody, not Tonks with her infatuation with Remus, certainly not Harry, for a multitude of obvious reasons. While Sirius peered up at her he recalled a fragment of what had been said in the parlor... when Molly asked him how long he had been in this condition. _ Now or never, _he thought, and plucking up the courage to just have out with it before it killed him, Sirius stammered, "Molly, d'you... do you really want to _know_?" He felt his otherwise deathly pale face pinken somewhat as his expression turned worried, hoping that she would understand the question... and have an answer.

Molly blinked for a moment, and then nodded her head twice before she spoke. "Of course I do, Sirius. We've all been so worried," she said and sat down at the table next to him moving the chair so that she could see him better. "Tell me, Sirius, what is it?"

He shifted in his chair a little, scratched the side of his nose, and leaned back so that the wood creaked slightly from the movement. He could smell Molly's curiosity spiking, and feel her body tense in anticipation of what he was about to confess. Sirius licked his lips and fixed his stare at the wisps of steam curling away from the coffee's glossy, still surface.

Voice quiet but firm, Sirius said, "I've been in love with the same person since I was probably 16 or 17 years old, and he can scarcely look me in the eye anymore."

Molly watched Sirius closely. His face drawn while he stared at the coffee mug, and she knew that what he was about to say was something that was difficult. She stayed quiet but her eyes widened a bit when he spoke. _He's talking about Remus! Merlin, I had heard..., but I…I didn't think that it was true. What would Tonks think?_ A thick silence filled the room and Molly's heart went out to Sirius as she watched his shoulders slump. She reached over and put her hand on his arm. "Remus?" She asked her voice hushed with more than a hint of sadness, "Oh Sirius, I'm sure it can't be that bad, can it?"

Sirius slowly turned his head to look at her, his eyes pools of stark astonishment. "Yes, Remus. And yes, it can be that bad!" His voice started to rise due to the frustration the situation engendered. "Isn't it obvious? Or is _this_ really not all that bad?" he said tremulously while gesturing to his entire corporeal self. Sirius couldn't believe it, but then, Molly was not in his shoes, either.

He pulled his arm away from her tentative touch and started to withdraw into himself again, scowling as to fight back tears. "I shouldn't have said anything," he groused with venom.

Sirius pulled back from her almost immediately and she almost regretted saying anything. "No, Sirius, please don't be that way. It's fine, really. I mean, you need to talk about it and I'm glad you feel like you can with me," she said trying to calm him. "I was just taken by surprise. I mean I had always known you two were close, I wasn't aware…" she trailed off before she could finish the sentence knowing that ending the sentence with 'that Remus was gay?' wasn't going to make things better. "Does Remus know?"

Sirius didn't verbalize his answer, but rather just looked back at Molly with her rosy, kind-hearted face and shook his head as he sighed through his nostrils. He couldn't, or didn't, want to explain the history that caused him so much suffering. It was either saintly or cowardly to spare Molly the knowledge, but whichever it was, Sirius decided to let it lie at that. For now.

Turning back to look at his coffee, Sirius said quietly, "In some tongue-tied and twisted way he does." _That's not a lie,_ he mused in silent afterthought. He took a sip from his cup and wrapped both hands around it in order to coax some warmth back into his icy fingers. His headache had abated and he was feeling grounded again, for the time being.

Things got quiet again as Sirius stuck to his decision to hold back on saying anything further. He detected a faint sliver of disappointment dim Molly's otherwise bright and curious eyes, but held his choice inflexibly. "It's just something he and I have got to work out is all," Sirius said, masking his depression with resigned nonchalance, as if it was not so dire after all. "It's hard to do when he's not around though. Maybe when he gets back.." He nodded and attempted a smile that failed, but plowed onto something new anyway. "There should be something in the stores if you feel up to cooking," Sirius said flatly.

_He doesn't know what Remus is doing,_ Molly realized as she watched Sirius completely shut her out and she held in a sigh knowing that it might tip him off that Remus' mission wasn't just routine. _Why wouldn't Remus tell him?_ She wondered but maybe he knew too that the fact that Remus could be in serious danger was something Sirius didn't need to know at the moment. She herself wasn't sure that Sirius needed to hear it at the moment, especially with the way she had found him earlier. She decided that it would be best to just go with his lead of not speaking. Nodding curtly to Sirius when he mentioned that there was food in the stores she got up silently her mind on what she had just heard and started to do what she had always done in times of heavy thought…cook and clean.

As she started dinner her mind kept working. She was disappointed that Sirius had decided not to elaborate more on what he had spoken of. She had hoped in some small way that maybe she would be able to help him through it, to make it where he could start to live again. With the information that he told her though it only made her have more questions. _What exactly was between Remus and Sirius, and should she mention this to Remus?_ It kept coming up after she had dinner prepared and the two of them sat down to eat. Finally not able to hold her tongue any longer she looked at Sirius and said, "Sirius, I am fully aware that you have decided against talking to me about how you feel about Remus, but I think you would feel better if you did."

Sirius had just taken his first bite when Molly cut in. His appetite vanished instantaneously as he looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable from across the span of the table.

His silverware hit the wood with a clatter. "Why?" Sirius said, very annoyed. His arms crossed in front of him, he sat back and glared harshly at Molly, who only returned his stare with her jaw set and her expression determined. "I told you more than I should have already."

"Have you, Sirius?" she asked, her tone of voice becoming very demanding, very motherly. "You told me the start of it and then left it there to hang and drift in the wind when it's obviously eating you up inside. You need to talk about it, because right now you can't even take care of yourself," she told him her jaw set. "Sirius, I'm here to help you, not make your life harder. I'm your friend, you can trust me."

Sirius laughed a bitter bark as he grabbed the edge of the table and thrust his chair back, then rose to his feet so that he stood before her at his full height. He looked down at her and snapped, "Piss off! Who do you think you are to demand that of me?" And in the blink of an eye he was off, his mouth spouting a blue streak as the volume of his voice augmented and he started stabbing the air in front of her face with an accusatory finger. "I've got a surprise for you: I'm not one of the children that you can manipulate to your manic, overbearing mothering! I know that's a hard pill to choke down, but no, you will _not_ make me do something I don't want to do!"

His hand shoved his full plate off the table and onto the floor. Sirius blustered out and upstairs, then slammed his door so hard that the candle chandelier in the kitchen shook on its chain.

Molly's face turned a brilliant shade of angry purple when Sirius started to scream at her. His words cut into her as if they were heated knives into butter. He stood up and threw his plate to the ground then left the room, slamming the door so hard that not only did she move back in fear of the chandelier falling on her, but that wretched painting of his Mother started to scream at the top of her lungs.

Molly, having had enough, could no longer hold her tongue. She ran to the door and threw it open. "If you didn't act like a bloody _spoiled_ CHILD I wouldn't have to _treat _you this way!" she bellowed after him as he stormed up the stairs. "When are you going to _grow up_ Sirius? When are you going to stop being that BLOODY _whelp_ you were at Hogwarts and _start being_ a MAN?" she screamed at him as she heard the door slam upstairs, the noise almost unintelligible by the screaming of the portrait in the hall yelling of blood traitors and filth. "Oh shut up you old Cow!" Molly yelled as she started to try and get the drapes back over the portrait; it took her almost ten minutes to accomplish it. The whole time she wondered why anyone even bothered with Sirius Black. She couldn't help but feel that maybe Albus and Remus were wasting their time; he was lost to them.

By the time she finally got the portrait quieted Molly returned to the kitchen and quickly cleaned up the mess that Sirius had made. She decided then that she would prepare the meals she had promised Remus and then she would go back to the Burrow. _Next time I find him on the floor I'll spit on him and kick him in the face! _she thought angrily and then felt her own skin heat up knowing all of this ran deeper than just her and Sirius' constant battle. She knew that he was acting out because he was upset with not just his situation in life, but his situation with Remus.

Molly decided that when she got home to the burrow that she might write Remus a letter. The thought of that kept her calm enough to finish what she had started. When the meals were prepared and placed in the ice box, she packed up her stuff and without a word she left the house and apparated back to the Burrow, leaving Sirius up to his own devices.

While Molly was dealing with the portrait and the mess, Sirius was seething in his bedroom, pacing to and fro much like a vicious predator on display behind iron bars, trapped without a key. He delivered a swift kick to his old school trunk, which skidded a few inches from where it was placed against the wall.

Sirius flung himself onto the sofa by his window, his arms crossed tight in front of him and his knees drawn up to his chest. He glared out the window, unable to express his rage anymore. Screaming, crying, and destroying things were of no use now, and now was when he needed an outlet most of all.

Dim lampposts afforded meager light into the room where he brooded. A floor-length mirror on clawed legs caught his reflection as he stayed on his velvet couch. As Sirius looked at himself in silence, silhouetted against the window, a gentle voice rose in his head that said, _You don't have to go on this way, Sirius. You know there's a way out._

The voice sounded like it came from somebody whispering in his ear (or did it come from the mirror?), which made Sirius jump slightly, and look around to see if he wasn't alone. He was, and the sweet, calm voice started speaking again. It was like a lullaby, coaxing Sirius into unending, deep dreams. It would be so easy...

Then the voice was gone, just like smoke. Its absence grabbed Sirius' awareness that the house was again silent. Molly had gone, left in a rage to rival his own. Feeling shaken and disturbed, Sirius crept back downstairs and into the kitchen. The room was clean, the candles snuffed out, dishes stacked and put away back into their cabinets. He pulled out the chair at the head of the long table, put his head down, and fell asleep, thinking about how much he was going to miss everyone.

Molly apparated in front of the Burrow and wasted little time in writing Remus; she wanted what had occurred at Grimmauld to be fresh in her mind when she recounted what had transpired. The fact that she found Sirius on the floor passed out was bad enough, but to have him act the way he did was not only disheartening but almost _delusional_; no, that's not right…it was desperate. Sirius was acting desperate and lost, like a man drowning; and Molly felt that Remus needed to know this as soon as possible.

With quill in hand she paused for a moment and stared at the letter, re-reading what she just wrote, making sure the proper wording was used that had been decided between the two of them in case the letter got intercepted. As she looked over the letter doubt started to fill her veins. _Should I send this to him? If Severus' tip was right, he's sure to have his hands full, maybe he doesn't need this added stress?_ She thought to herself, and then shook her head. _No, it's the reason he had me going there to check on him. He needs to know, _she silently decided and got up to place the note on the family owl, Errol. She paused for a moment and realized that wouldn't be the wisest idea. She again put on her cloak and left the Burrow to get a non-descript owl to send the letter instead.

Part 2 still to come…


End file.
